I rummage the plastic bags, going through the goods I have just bought before leaving the twenty-four hours mart. The road is empty. Faint honks and soft chatters at the back of alley alert me that I am actually outside, at this late of night.

I let out a heavy sigh, tired. It is tiring to be moving into a new house. But this is literally my dream since the past eight years. I was very itching to move out and the day I could, I can never be happier.

But am I happy right now?

I’m walking along the empty street alone.

I finally decide to come out of the place that I would like to address as my personal lair only because my stomach is grumbling so much. It’s a vacant space, I don’t have much furniture in. My growling stomach echoes to every corner of the rooms. Plus, the hunger is slowly giving me headache.

I stagger when I go out, almost think I wouldn’t make it to the mart. Maybe I would pass out half way and nobody would know, heck, would anybody even care?

The house is how it was like when I left a half an hour ago. I purse my lips, satisfied. These sections, this space, these rooms, all of these are mine. There are not much but they’re mine. I heave in and out, falling onto the beanbag just across the small third-hand TV I bought from the electronic shop two blocks away. No extravagant channel, just the main ones. I could not afford Netflix or whatsoever. I don’t think this TV support that application even.

“What is there to eat...” I talk to myself, taking out the cut-out kimbap I bought from the mart. It taste bland, like tears-soaked rice but I munch to it like it is the most delicious things I have ever tasted. It could be. I did not taste much of delicious food. I am not in favour of any kind of delicacies. I eat whatever. Sometimes, I don’t eat.

Besides the muffles of TV and my loud chews, there is no other sound filling the air. The light seems dim out of nowhere and I bring myself to the memories of living with my uncle’s family after the unfortunate death of my parents. Since I live with them, I have never treated the place like my own. It just feel so distance to me, the bond and everything. My cousins, they are fine. My uncle and auntie, they’re as good. I just feel foreign and I would like to be alone, with my own family. And since they’re gone, I am my own family. I’m with my own.

They were pretty much against of my idea on staying alone but how can they force me to do otherwise when I have been listening to each of their request kindly? I have made the decision long ago and they knew too well that this is not something that they can influence me to do otherwise. I guess they also have given up on me. They have tried for eight years. It was never their fault when I don’t feel like I belong there.

“I really think you need more than this for dinner,”

The voice pulls me out of trance instantly and I whip my head to my right, shock. There is no one next to me. The series in the TV is still playing. It could be from there.

The snarky remark left unattended, brush away by the wind that fail to be felt. I take the second piece of the kimbap, shrugging the ominous feelings away.

“It doesn’t even look delicious, I swear to God, it looks like cat food.” The voice whispers.

“WHO IS IT?” I yell without losing a beat, turning around. I put the kimbap away, force myself into a ready position as my eyes dart around the room. The chills spread across my body, I even feel cold sweat running down my spine. “WHO IS IT? COME OUT NOW! DO YOU THINK I’M AFRAID OF YOU?”

Oh hell, I am dead afraid. But would I let the trespasser know? Nope, definitely not.

“You sure?” The voice chuckles. I could almost imagine the smirk it would draw across its lips. The voice faint away like it disappears with the air.

I could not tell in which direction it comes from and it scares me even more. I have just got my freedom today but I’m about to die in the hands of God knows who. If I am being rob then it sure is not the robber’s lucky day. I freaking have nothing in my house. I have leftover kimbap and beanbag that only cost chips if sold, maybe, a TV that would not spare fortune to beggar, a set of bed and pillows, few clothes and that’s all. I haven’t even buy the stove yet.

“COME OUT!” That’s the last bit of my bravery, and I said that as I draws the chopstick ahead, possibly trying to hold down my opponent with a set of sticks that incapable of doing nothing but I couldn’t think of anything better. The beanbag surely will not hurt anyone anyhow.

It snorts. “Alright,”

I look far into my kitchen, knowing that the person would appear from behind the wall despites battling my inner thoughts that the voice sounds so near that it feels like it just next to me.

“Hey, I’m here,” He says.

I turn my head to my right and there stand a man, a beautiful man, with no smile whatsoever, no smirk like he sounds in his voice, yet not intimidating in his expression. He looks plainly at the remaining food on the floor and I could barely catch a hint of disgust by the crook of his nose and he lands his sight on me again.

I have screamed internally, no voice coming out of me while instinctively, I have my chopsticks drawing now at the right direction, to him. “W-WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?” My voice loud but I tremble as I say.

He shakes his head in disbelief, walking pass me as if he sees me nothing like threatening to him. Well, he doesn’t look like a threat to me either. He doesn’t have weapon, nor does he wear mask if he meant to rob this place. But the most bizarre thing is, HOW DID HE EVEN GET IN HERE?

“I’m-OH GOD Do I seriously have to give introduction here?” He scowls to the air, expanding his arms and looks distressful. “Guys, help me out. This totally make me look like I’m a creep.”

“Heck, aren’t you?” Another voice booms.

“WHO THE HELL IS THAT?” I scream now. My hands shiver as I step back from the man, trying to escape from this absurdity.

I have just moved in and I find a guy in my new house. And this guy has friend too.

“Relax,” He breathes out as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Now, I have no mood to entertain this kind of activity. Not today. And you just moved in.” He takes huge steps to come close to me. “How about this–” He snaps his fingers.

---

It feels surreal. Is it real? Oh this is a headache to find myself falling asleep on the floor, pillowing the beanbag. The food scatters around and the TV has turned off. I didn’t remember turning it off but yeah. Maybe I did. I grab my phone in my jeans’ pocket, briefly looking at the clock to find it’s 8AM and I’m an hour away from my shift.

I let out a sigh, getting rid of the piercing sting in my head. That was wild. The first night was wild.